


anesthesia

by prettyboyrollins



Series: Reunion [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13084254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyrollins/pseuds/prettyboyrollins
Summary: "Stop crucifying yourself, crossfit Jesus." [Finding a bright spot among the dark.]





	anesthesia

**Author's Note:**

> i'm heartbroken over hearing dean's injured. i've been sick to my stomach since it happened monday night. this was my attempt to feel a little better - apparently the surgery went well and we don't know how long he'll be out for, but i already miss him terribly.
> 
> i hope if you're sad over it like i am, this makes you feel a little bit better.

Dean _hated_ the feeling of coming out of anesthesia. It felt like his limbs weren’t his own, and he couldn’t control them right because someone else was, and that mental disconnect drove him absolutely crazy.

Well. Crazier than he already appeared to be to the general public.

When he heard he’d need “surgical exploration” for his arm, he could’ve punched the doctor out. They didn’t even know if anything needed to be fixed, and yet they were all ready to slice him open. It was bullshit, but he did it anyway because Seth hit him with those big puppy dog eyes and he knew he couldn’t say no to that. “I want you to be okay,” he’d said, and that was all he needed to say for Dean to book the appointment.

Everyone else they worked with, including Vince, insisting that he go get treatment only kind of factored into his decision.

But now he was here, experiencing that awful feeling of regaining consciousness, and he really wished he wasn’t so easy for Seth to break.

He groaned, keeping his eyes closed, and someone squeezed his left hand gently.

“Hey there, Deano.” The voice was so soft and gentle next to him, and it almost made him want to cry. Of _course_ he was here.

“What’re you doin’,” Dean grumbled, refusing to open his eyes to actually look at the man at his side. If he did, It might end up being a dream, and he didn’t really feel like dealing with that and the accompanying emotions right now.

“Right this second? Tryin’ not to worry about you, honestly. Doc said he’d be in later to tell you what kinda recovery you’re lookin’ at. I got my fingers crossed for somethin’ quick and easy. A couple weeks, tops.”

Dean shook his head, settling it so he was facing the voice, and then he opened his eyes. Seth didn’t disappear into thin air, even as he blinked slowly a few times to clear his vision. He looked exhausted, hair frizzy and sticking up in several different directions – had he been pulling on it? Was he really that stressed?

“You look like shit.”

Seth laughed, a little breathless and a little hoarse, and Dean couldn’t help but smile a bit despite his shitty situation. “Thanks, Ambrose,” Seth said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Not all of us can be as effortlessly handsome as you are, buddy.”

Dean went to sit up – he wanted to feel like a normal person, and he couldn’t really do that while horizontal – but when he went to push himself up, he was almost blinded by pain. “Mother _fucker.”_

Seth’s free hand was on his chest in an instant, a warm, grounding presence as he settled back into his original spot on the bed. “Hey. Careful. You can’t use that arm just yet.” Dean pretended to not notice the pained look on Seth’s face as he tried to adjust his pillows by shrugging a few times. “I’m sorry.”

It took Dean a second to realize what he was apologizing for. “Wait wait wait – back it up, Rollins. Are you blamin’ yourself for this?”

“Yes.”

If Dean had two working arms, he could’ve slapped Seth right in his pretty face. “You’re an idiot.”

“Dean – you only fell because of _me_ divin’ onto you. I caused this. If I hadn’t done that spot – or if I’d waited for you to step away, you woulda been fine, and we’d be reclaimin’ our tag titles in a week.”

“No, Seth. Joe caused this by slammin’ my bad arm in a case while I was getting’ it looked at. This ain’t your fault at all – unless you put Joe up to it ‘cause you were sick of taggin’ with me.”

Seth looked mildly horrified. “I didn’t, I wouldn’t, but-”

“Relax, Seth, it was a joke.” Dean squeezed the hand that was still holding his a little. “Honestly. This was my bad arm anyway. It was gonna get hurt eventually.”

Dean could tell Seth wasn’t buying it, and he was reminded again why Seth was the most insufferable and stubborn person on the planet. “If this was _genuinely_ your fault, I’d make sure you knew. C’mon. We’ve known each other for years – you gotta know that’s true.”

Seth bit his lip, and Dean wished he was good enough to lean up to kiss the worry off of his face. “I still feel guilty,” Seth told him.

“Your guilt complex is gonna kill you, man. I’m glad you developed a conscience and a soul this year, but come on.” Dean fought off a yawn. “You’re fine. I don’t blame _you_ at all.”

“I just…” Seth looked down at their joined hands and laced their fingers together. Dean squeezed again, which made Seth smile a little. “I just swore to you,” he started softly, swallowing hard. “I swore to you I wouldn’t hurt you again, and then I did. That… I’m fucking mad at myself for doing that.”

“Stop crucifying yourself, crossfit Jesus.” Dean was so sick of this shit, and he rolled his eyes. ‘I get it, man, I do. I’ve been there. I’ve felt like you’re feelin’. But beatin’ yourself up like this doesn’t do jack shit. So start forgivin’ yourself and we’ll be golden, okay?”

Seth was completely silent for a few moments. He looked like he was actually taking what Dean said to heart. _Progress._

“I was up all night,” he admitted, sheepish. “I was so worried I couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re somethin’ else,” Dean said, laughing fondly. “You better get some rest. I’m not goin’ anywhere anyway.”

Seth leaned forward and kissed Dean’s forehead, and Dean couldn’t help himself – he angled his chin up and puckered his lips, asking for a kiss without using words. Seth laughed and shook his head before kissing Dean properly. Dean hummed into it, and Seth was kind enough to let Dean be the one to break it first, which he did after a few blissful minutes.

“Love you,” Seth said softly, voice already a little thick with sleep.

“I know.” And for the first time, that wasn’t a lie. “Get some sleep, Seth. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Seth was already halfway there when he sat back down, and within ten minutes of his eyes closing, he was snoring, his hand still gripping Dean’s firmly.

Dean brought it to his lips, kissing it – Seth wasn’t going to remember this, so he allowed himself to be soft and vulnerable in a way he never was otherwise. “Love you too, asshole.”

It felt nice, saying it aloud for the first time, even if it was to no one in particular, and Dean kept smiling as he watched Seth sleep soundly next to him. If this was how things would be whenever he got injured, well, he’d hate it just a tiny bit less.


End file.
